


Ray Guns Are Not Just The Future

by Rixxy8173571m3W1p3



Series: The Fluffy Adventures With Your Boyfriend Doofus Rick [96]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Adorable Doofus Rick (Rick and Morty), Bathrooms, Established Relationship, Explosions, Eyeliner, F/M, Fluff, Hair Dryers, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by A Bird and The Bee Song, Inspired by Music, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Random & Short, Ray guns, Reader-Insert, Repairs, Self-Insert, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Star Trek References, Technology, Weapons, Weapons Vault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:14:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23882860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rixxy8173571m3W1p3/pseuds/Rixxy8173571m3W1p3
Summary: In this fic Rick makes repairs, but upgrades what's been broken.
Relationships: Doofus Rick (Rick and Morty)/Reader, Rick Sanchez/Reader
Series: The Fluffy Adventures With Your Boyfriend Doofus Rick [96]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/895341
Kudos: 10





	Ray Guns Are Not Just The Future

You loved the image of a man at work; more specifically seeing your man at work, whether he was tinkering around or in the middle of repairs. Speaking of repairs, Rick had just finished repairing the hole in the wall which occurred when his automatic hair trimmer exploded after a demonstration on a wig head; imagine what would've happened on his head? Anyway, he took the liberty of upgrading and installing tech where there previously was none. Although you were grateful that things were mostly back to where they were, how exactly were you supposed to feel about a miniature weapons vault? Disturbed perhaps. "Rick, this belongs in an episode of Star Trek, not in my bathroom cabinet. What am I supposed to do with this?"

With a good-natured chuckle, he wiped the sweat of his brow; satisfied with a job well done. "After that run-in with the Iotians, I-I thought it'd be a good idea to keep this here. Just i-in case."

You didn't think they were going to leave Sigma Iotia II anytime soon, but one could never say never. "Rick, if they find these heaters here, then not only are we fried, but they might find my hairdryer. I just bought it, and haven't had a chance to use it yet."

Finding your tone amusing, he chuckled again. "Gosh, I-I highly doubt they'd understand what it's even for."

You weren't so sure, but that didn't really matter. What you were more concerned about was knowing you were armed and dangerous. "To be honest, I never thought I'd be in a stage in my life where I'd even know about the existence of real-life ray guns, let alone own a few. It makes me feel like a dangerous woman."

"It's perfectly natural to feel that way," he commented. "y-you probably never thought you'd date an old man like me either."

Where in the world did that come from? You two were only talking of ray guns and aliens, not his age. Really, you didn't like how hollow the last part sounded, but you answered carefully, "You're right, I didn't think I'd date someone like you, but I didn't think I'd date anyone either. At this point, I don't think any of that matters because I wanted to go out with you. It's not like I settled."

"But it's not like you didn't have options."

Underestimating a Sanchez's sass could send a person to their early grave. Though, with Zeta-7 it was unusual and not usually directed at you; he must've had a bad day, and somehow you triggered it. He gathered his tools together, and didn't continue on the subject; setting out towards the living room where a cup of coffee was waiting for him. You glanced back at the bathroom cabinet and had an idea; albeit a foolish one.

* * *

You had your war paint on, or as it's affectionately called exaggerated eyeliner. "Who's been talking trash to you again," you inquired, punching one of your palms with your first. "and do I have to do some target practice on some bald spots?"

Cradling his mug, he answered solemnly. "No, that won't be necessary. It - it won't help."

"But someone has been talking down to you again right?"

"It doesn't matter," he shrugged, but his eyes said otherwise. "what I do doesn't matter."

"Really? Well, if that doesn't matter I'll show you something that does."

You grabbed a framed photo. It was taken while you two were on one of your dates; it was a simple trip to get ice cream, but Rick considered it a date nonetheless. You pointed at the image of him in one of his adorable Mr. Rogers look-alike outfits; he was exhibiting one of his winsome smiles. "This man matters. I love him with my whole soul, with my whole everything. He might get mistaken as my father more often than I like, but I would never kiss my father the way I'll kiss this man. And I wouldn't have ever gone out with someone my father wouldn't have approved of, but I know he would've approved of you."

"He would've skinned me alive if h-he knew that I was attracted to you."

While it was an exaggeration, it was somewhat true. "My father was protective of the ones he loved, and because I'm a lot like him, I feel the same way. I'd do anything to protect you and that lovely smile of yours. So please don't say that you don't matter," you softened. "because everything matters. And you matter the most. You were the one that taught me that."

A lightening of spirit took place, and he set down his mug in order to gather you in an embrace. "Y-you're right. I'm sorry about what I said. I-I don't know why I let what the guys say get t-t-to me."

"Me either, but I'm here for you dear."

Pulling out a ray gun, you giggled. "That also means I'm not afraid of defending what's mine. So, which dimension should we invade first?"


End file.
